The Field Assessment
by TheLateNightStoryteller
Summary: A story about the possibe events surrounding Fitz and Simmon's field assessment. There is now a second chapter about what happened during part of the actual field assessment.
1. Chapter 1

This is a story about what the events surrounding Simmon and Fitz's field assessment may have been like.

Agents of Shield belongs to its great creators and ABC and Marvel :)  
They discuss Fringe in this story. Fringe belongs to its awesome creators.

"Oh c'mon Fitz," Jemma pleaded. "Think of all the wonderful places we might go! It would be an adventure."  
"People die on adventures." he muttered, tightening a screw on one of drones he was fixing up.  
"You are such a pessimist," she complained, sitting down in a chair beside him. "We'll be fine."  
He shot her a skeptical look and continued his work.  
"Aren't you curious what's out there?" she pushed, ignoring it.  
"No!" he exclaimed, placing the drone on the table. "I am perfectly happy where I am and I don't see that changing any time soon."  
She looked crestfallen. "You aren't even going to miss me a tiny bit?" she asked quietly.  
"Of course I am," he answered, feeling himself soften. He abandoned his work and turned to face her. "You're really going to go then?" he inquired meeting her gaze.  
She nodded solemnly, "As soon as I pass my field assessment."

He sighed and closed his eyes. He liked it here; it was interesting work, he knew everyone and it was safe. It wouldn't be the same without Jemma though. He tried to imagine what it would be like to go weeks, even months without seeing her and felt a lump form in his stomach.  
"If you were there...I guess...the field wouldn't be so bad." he said slowly.  
Her expression brightened, "So?"  
_'I'm a complete idiot,' he thought. 'This is an awful idea.'  
_But if Jemma was going somewhere, he knew he would follow.  
"I'll come with you." he agreed.  
A grin stretched across her face and before he knew what was happening she was hugging him tightly.  
"It will be so much better with you along!" she chirped. "You'll love it! I know you will. We are going to see so many things!"  
He smiled and hugged her back as she listed off all things they were going to see. Maybe it really would be fun and besides, as long as they were together, how bad could it be?

Field training was horrible. It was the first time in shield that Jemma was substandard at something and that frustrated her. She was progressing faster than Fitz which made things worse because she wanted him to pass with her. She waved encouragingly at her friend as he limped over to her from the obstical course. He returned the gesture weakly.

"I thought you did better that time," she said when he reached her.  
He groaned and crashed down onto the grass.  
"Don't let Agent Bailey catch you sitting down!" Jemma warned, too late.  
"Agent Fitz!" Agent Bailey called, from the other side of the field where she was supervising the knot tying."That's one more lap around the course for sitting on the job."  
He groaned again but got to his feet and restarted the course. Agent Bailey came over to stand beside Jemma and they watched his progress together.  
When he finished and returned to them Agent Bailey appeared unimpressed.  
"Was that really the best you can do?" she criticised.  
Fitz averted her gaze and mumbled, "Yes Agent Bailey."  
She glared at him. "Agent Simmons, I want you to do the course in half the time. Show your friend what doing a good job looks like." she ordered.  
Jemma swallowed back a sharp reply. She'd never done the course that quickly before and it wasn't fair that Agent Bailey was using her to punish Fitz.  
She exchanged a glance with Fitz who smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up. He thought she could do it.

Her muscles were screaming for her to sit down but she took a breath and jogged back towards the course. Determined, she raced through the obsticals, even managing to scale the wall on the first try. The course, she realized, had become familiar to her over the past few weeks and she weaved through the challenges almost by instinct. When she jogged back across the field to Fitz and Agent Bailey she knew she had been successful.  
"Good," Agent Bailey nodded, jotting something down in her notebook. "But I want you both improved by next week."  
"Yes Agent Bailey," they replied in unison.

When Agent Bailey was out of ear shot, Fitz beamed at her..  
"You should have seen her face when you scaled that wall!" he exclaimed, attempting to imitate it. "Of course I knew you could do it." he added as the left the field to go get some dinner.  
She smiled warmly at him. "Next time it'll be you who surprises her." she predicted.  
His face fell. "I hope so." he said.  
"I know so," She assured him, nudging his shoulder where she didn't think he'd bruised it.  
"I'm glad someone does," he sighed but his smile returned. "C'mom, I'll make you some spaghetti." he offered.  
Jemma's stomach grumbled. That sounded delicious.

A few months later, Fitz sat on the floor of Jemma's living room watching Fringe. His whole body hurt and he was exhausted but he was confident that they were both well preprared for their assessment the next day.  
"I can't believe they spoiled the ending to Casablanca!" he complained, pausing the dvd and turning to her incredulously.  
"Were you going to watch it?" She asked sleepily, lying on her side on the sofa behind him.  
"That isn't the point," he told her.  
"Mmm" she replied, too tired to argue.  
"I think Peter is going to end up with the alternate Olivia." he guessed.  
She perked up at this. "Of course he isn't," she protested. "He's in love with the one from our universe. He's obviously going to end up with her."  
"Don't you think that's a bit predictable?" he argued.  
"Putting together the ones who enjoy each other's company, protect each other and mutually respect one another you mean?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, but what's wrong with predictable? It's still romantic."  
"I still think it'd be more interesting if he ended up with the other one." he pressed.  
She rolled her eyes, "Their entire relationship is based on a lie." she pointed out. "Besides he and our Olivia are soulmates."  
"You're too much of a romantic," he teased.  
"And you aren't enough of one," she countered, smiling.  
He smiled back and resumed the program. He was glad he had decided to go with her. There was a warm, simple comfort in existing beside her and he wasn't willing to let go of that anytime soon.

"I think I should go now," he yawned when it was over. "We have a big day tomorrow."  
She didn't reply.  
"Simmons?" he turned around and saw that she had fallen asleep.  
He watched her and wondered how one person could make him feel safe and protective at the same time. She looked so peaceful and content he did not want to wake her. Instead he took the blanket from her room and wrapped it carefully around her so that she wouldn't be cold in the middle of the night. His eyes fell shut as the long day caught up with him and he leaned his head against the side of the sofa, promising himself it would only be for a few seconds.

He awoke the next morning lying on the sofa under the same blanket he'd wrapped around Jemma. He smelled blueberry pancakes.  
"I nearly tripped over you when I woke up to use the toilet." Jemma scolded lightly from her kitchen, holding a forkfull of pancake."You can't just sleep on the floor like that."  
"I didn't do it on purpose," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Did you put me here?"  
"I couldn't wake you up," she explained.  
"I didn't know you were that strong," he said surprised.  
She shrugged, "You aren't that heavy."  
"I'm heavy enough," he grinned at her, "I think you've just developed some more muscle since we started training."  
Jemma blushed.  
"Come eat," she ordered, "we need to leave in an hour."  
He stretched, feeling well rested, and joined her at the table. Gratefully, he accepted a plate of pancakes and they discussed their ideas about what would be on the test as they had their breakfast.

It wasn't what they expected. The beggining was simple enough; they had to shoot at a target and jog 10 laps around the field. They were pretty even by now, although Fitz was slightly better at aiming and Jemma beat him by a full twenty seconds in the jogging. When they reached the obstical course however, it became more complicated.

The course had changed, which they had expected, and was lined with armed agents, which they had not.  
"Er...Agent Bailey?" Jemma asked hesitantly, "Are they going to shoot at us."  
"It's only paintballs," she informed them, though neither one was reassured by this.  
"But we haven't had anything like this in practice!" Fitz protested, eyeing the agents anxiously.  
"Just focus on the course," Agent Bailey instructed. "They will only shoot at you if you fall behind."  
"That's reassuring," Fitz said sarcastically.  
"You can do it." she told them firmly, "both of you can do this."  
"We won't dissapoint you," Jemma promised. She had grown to like and respect Agent Bailey over the past few months. The agent was a tough but excellent teacher and they would not have reached the point they were at without her.  
"We promise," Fitz added, standing up straighter.  
Agent Bailey nodded approvingly, her mouth forming a small smile. "It isn't me you need to impress," she reminded them, tilting her head over to where the judges were sitting. "Now go, before they wonder why you're taking so long."

Fitz sat on the bench about ten meters away from where the judges were giving Jemma her score. By the way her shoulders sagged and her head hung down he knew she had failed. Which meant he had failed too. He wondered what they had to tell her that was taking so long. Why did they look so angry? She'd done her best.  
When they dismissed her she left without coming to see him. He watched her go, wanting to follow, but needing to wait for his own results.  
The judge called him and began lecturing him on all the things he'd done wrong but he wasn't really listening. He was thinking of Jemma and the look on her face when she'd left.

"And you wouldn't have even made it across the finish line if Agent Simmons hadn't dragged you across." the judge was saying, indicating the 'wound' (or splat of red paint) on his chest that had 'immobilized' him a dozen meters before the finish line. "We took points from her for that too, it was poor judgement of her to go back for you. If it had been a real bullet you would have been dead before you crossed the finish line."  
Fitz bristled, "I thought she showed a lot of courage and strength pulling me that far with all those paint balls flying around." he retored before he could stop himself.  
"Wrecklessness is not an acceptable quality for an agent in the field," the judge barked. "You are dismissed, Agent Fitz. Feel free to try again next year and I hope if you do your attitude will be improved."  
Fitz bit back another angry retort and left to find Jemma.

Fitz found her sitting on the floor of her bathroom.  
"Simmons? Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.  
She shrugged, feeling her eyes burn, and swallowed to keep back her tears.  
"You need to clean that," Fitz told her, pointing to the long cut on her arm.  
When she did not respond he opened a drawer, pulled out a wash cloth and ran water over it. Gently, he took her arm and began to clear the mud away from the wound. She didn't protest even though it stung when the hot water from the cloth passed over it.  
"I can't believe it's over." she said dully as he searched her cabinet for peroxide. "It's at the top." she informed him.  
She watched him as he managed to find the bottle and pour the clear liquid over a tissue.  
"May I?" he inquired, sitting in front of her again and holding up the tissue.  
She nodded.  
"I thought you were very brave," he said as he whiped the peroxide over her cut.  
It burned but his words were comforting.  
"I'm glad someone thought so," she smiled.  
"He did not call you a coward!" Fitz gasped, tossing the tissue in the waste bin.  
"No," she scoffed, " he only said that I'm weak and I have poor judgement. Oh and don't forget an inability to handle myself under pressure." She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. "I really thought I could do this."  
He lifted her chin so that she was looking him in the face.  
"He's an idiot." he told her.  
The tears she'd been trying to hold back spilled out and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder.  
He returned her embrace. "We'll pass next year," he whispered. "I think we were close this year." he chuckled, "well you were, I was taken out by a paint ball."  
She laughed with him, cheered by his optimism. However she grew silent once she pulled away and saw where the paintball had left a dark red stain on his shirt. Placing her hand over the mark she felt his heart beating beneath it and her stomach clenched. If they had actually been on a mission...  
She shook the thought away. On a real mission they would be protected by their team and besides how likely was it that the scientists were going to be sent into combat?  
"Ow, Jemma that hurts." Fitz complained wincing.  
"Sorry." She apologized, pulling her hand away. She'd forgotten that he was probably sore from the shot.

There was a knock at the door. They collected themselves and went to answer. Jemma was still rubbing the tears from her eyes when Fitz opened the door to Agent Bailey.  
"You two need to sign these." She informed them, holding out two sets of papers.  
"I'm sorry we let you down," Jemma declared sadly, as they took the forms.  
"You didn't," she assured them. "Many people fail the first try. I thought you performed admirably."  
Jemma smiled, warmed by her praise.

"Hold on," Fitz said, squinting at the paper. "Why does it have a check box labelled ignore recomendation?"  
Jemma examined the sheet and saw the box he was referring too. "Does that mean we can go anyway?" she wondered.  
Agent Bailey's expression was unreadable. "Yes," she informed them, "you were chosen for a particular team so you have that option."  
"Someone chose us?" "We were chosen for a team?" They asked incredilously.  
Agent Bailey nodded. "I'm not the only one you impressed. Many of the other agents were particularly pleased with Agent Simmon's courage going back for her teammate."  
Fitz hit her shoulder lightly and beamed at her, his eyes filled with pride.

"So we can go?" she asked.  
"Yes." Agent Bailey replied. "Although I can't officially recommend it."  
She exchanged a glance with Fitz and his face echoed her own delight.  
"We're actually going into the field!" she squeaked.  
"On a real adventure!" he added gleefully.  
_'People die on adventures.' _she heard his words in her head and her eyes drifted once again to the red stain on the front of his shirt.  
"Do you really want to go?" she inquired seriously, searching his face.  
He hesitated for only a second before nodding. "You and me, seeing the world. Together." he said taking her hand, "That sounds fantastic."  
Her grin returned and she forgot her worries. They would be fine, she told herself, and this was the chance of a lifetime.  
With her best friend at her side she took the pen from Agent Bailey and checked in the box ignore recomendation.

**Fun Background  
**The Fringe reference is them watching Fringe. (obviously haha) The episode is 3x07 _The Abducted. _They were actually almost finished when Fitz paused it so Jemma fell asleep really fast.

I named their mentor in field training after Miranda Bailey from Grey's Anatomy who is the mentor of the main 5 characters in the first few seasons.


	2. Chapter 2

This is not really a sequal to the Field Assessment but more of a magnified look at the assessment itself. I had the story in my head and I had time to write it so I decided to. Agents of Shiled belongs to its wonderful creators and ABC and Marvel.

He was almost at the end. He could actually see it when the paintball hit his chest. It stung and knocked the breath out of him. He lay on the ground cursing himself. He had failed.

Jemma was about a meter away from the finish when she heard her friend cry out behind her. She turned to see him lying on the ground and knew he'd been hit. Annoyed she headed towards him. A paintball soared past her shoulder and she realized she'd fallen behind the timer, which was going to make this much more difficult.

One of the judges, a strange man with no hair in a grey suit, jotted something down in a little notebook. He returned his grey hat to his hairless head and resumed observing them.

"Fitz really?" Jemma scolded when she reached him, her voice thick with disappointment, "we were almost there."

"Well that's a nice way to talk to your team mate whose just been shot!" He retorted, furious at himself for letting her down. "If I ever get shot for real I hope you'll be more sympathetic! And I expect tears!"

"I'll be too busy dragging you out of whatever mess you land yourself in to cry!" She shot back.

"Whatever mess I land myself in?" He repeated indignantly, "That's a kind thing to say to an injured team mate."

"I'll be a weeping mess after I deal with the problem," she shouted, grabbing him under his arms and beginning to pull him through the mud, "happy?"

A few paintballs whizzed past her head.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, forcing himself not to squirm out of her grip. He was suppose to be immobilized, that was the rule. He was afraid they'd both loose if he broke it. "You need to get to the finish line before the time runs out."

"_We_ need to get to the finish line," she corrected. "Did you think I came all the way back just to argue with you?"

"Jemma no!" He gasped as he realized what she was doing, "I've already failed. Don't risk yourself failing too!"

"Fitz shut up!" She ordered. "I am not finishing without you. You are passing with me whether you like it or not."

He fell silent, realizing her mind was made up. A few more paintballs flew their way. One missed her head by only about a centimeter. It took every ounce of his concentration to remain still as Jemma did all the work. It felt wrong but he couldn't risk disqualifying her.

It was a difficult task, to drag him so far through the mud with a storm of paintballs around her. Using the course to shield herself from them meant she had to cover even more distance. However she refused to give up or finish without him and, miraculously, she managed to drag him over the finish line.

"You did it!" He exclaimed incredulously, still lying on his back.

"I did," she breathed, not quite believing it.

He sat up and they stared at each other for a few seconds before breaking into laughter.

"You were so dramatic," she told him when she managed to take a breath.

"Me?" He laughed, "you should have heard yourself! You are passing whether you like it or not!" He imitated in a high pitch voice.

"I do ...not ...sound like... that," she managed between giglges.

"Alright," he conceeded, "Maybe I was a little high pitch." He beamed at her. "Thanks, by the way, for not leaving me back there." He placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm proud of you. That looked really hard."

He looked at her as if she`d just done something absolutely incredible and she for a moment she felt as if she'd already succeeded.

**Fun Background**

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, liked or read my other stories. It is greatly appreciated.

I changed my format last story because my brother was using my keyboard and I couldn't format it the same way. This seems easier to read though so I thought I'd try it out on this too.

The fringe reference is the judge, who is an Observer. Dadada!


End file.
